'Noah'

The wind was fierce and icy and as it hit his face he felt grateful for the scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. It was winter, and it was silent. Noah finished work and had been waiting at the bus stop for over an hour. Frustration built as his phone had died and contact with his personal world had been cut off; this didn't both him as he'd never been fond of technology.

                He was alone, planted on a plastic seat. His shoes scratched the shiny ground, laced with glitter specks of ice. Noah had a twitch which affected him in social situations that brought out his anxiety. He thought it most strange that his foot was tapping so excessively upon the floor in such a lonely scene. The street remained still with no human presence. The only human element was Noah himself, and a cigarette butt, lipstick-stained and soggy, that lay next to his feet. Since the last time he'd checked his watch, time had elapsed a mere five minutes. Where was his bus?

                When he could take no more he began to walk. To walk from the bus stop down the fairly straight main road meant a long, albeit familiar journey to his apartment, wherein he'd planned to sink into an evening of fine cheeses and World of Warcraft. Noah had been waiting at the same bus stop for years and to date it remained his required platform; except now he was 30 and had the pleasure of resenting a grown up job. His father had dropped him there as a boy of 11, with a packed lunch in a tousled, brown bag and a kiss on the forehead, and picked him up with the same warmth and care. To get home from the stop his father would repeat two simple steps to Noah - 'Follow your nose and take a left by the owl'. Many miles from the bus stop, there was a small house on the corner of the stretched road, and a pleasant lady who lived there had crafted a beautiful, oak owl, whose talons were still fixed to the highest tree branch outside of her home. Noah lived further down the road of the owl and so upon its sighting, even with his fathers comforting presence beside him, he knew he was on track.

                Take a left by the owl. Noah had been travelling straight for half an hour and finally began to make out the silhouette of his tree bound friend. He smiled. His hands were tucked in his pockets as he reached the bend in the road and turned. Noah did not expect to see what he saw, sprawled on the ground at foot height, on that silent, winter evening. He was no longer alone.

This was just a bit of fun guys. I was a bit bored so decided to start typing and see where it got me. Scared myself with the concepts of what this Noah chap might have seen. I love you all!